


Full Circle

by jaystrifes



Series: Spectrum (Heartlines) [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gift Giving, Light Angst, Penguin-sledding, Please Forgive me, Post-Canon, Pre-Poly, Sailing, this was supposed to be a penguin-sledding drabble and instead turned into 9k of emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes
Summary: A little more than a year after the war's end, Zuko pays Katara and Aang a visit, plagued by the anxieties of his duties and his personal life. Belated birthday presents are the least he can do to express how important their friendship is to him, and as he spends the day with them, he receives a few unexpected gifts in return.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Spectrum (Heartlines) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167446
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35





	Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guileheroine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guileheroine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [where'd you get them scars, how blue is your heart?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865832) by [kuchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi). 



> For the zutaraangtastic holiday exchange on tumblr!! My recipient's prompts included: fluff, domestic, seasonal, gift giving, au's—I tried to fill at least some of those! So sorry it's late, but I hope the fic makes up for itself.
> 
> Thanks to kuchi for the beta and for the penguin-sledding inspiration :3 Enjoy!

The morning light shines on the icy blue waters, gleaming off of every snow-capped glacier with blinding brilliance. Zuko paces the deck, as if his restlessness will speed up the ship somehow. He’s been awake since sunrise. Or, whatever sunrise is called when the sun doesn’t actually set. 

The unnatural solar cycle down here is throwing off his rhythm, but it’s not the only thing.

He’s visited the South Pole since the war’s end, but never without business to attend to. Katara had invited him by letter this time, and Uncle urged him to go, insisting that after more than a year spent hard at work on the restructuring of the Fire Nation and the restoration of the rest of the world, Zuko deserved a vacation.

Of course, he couldn’t quite convince himself of that. Uncle had all but bundled him onto the ship and  requested that the captain not divert from their course no matter what.

Zuko’s already been through his morning firebending exercises, but excess energy hums through him from so much sun, so he shrugs off his overcoat to try again. He starts with his breathing, drawing in as he focuses on the balance of external cold, internal heat. Still, his mind wanders.

It’s not that he doesn’t  _ want _ to see Katara, either. Her letters are always welcome, but it’s not the same as those special moments between the final agni kai and his coronation. It was so much easier, the healing sessions spent in tentative conversation or companionable quiet, when he felt like they were finally, actually becoming friends.

Zuko exhales a plume of steam in the freezing air.

When it’s all too much, that’s where his thoughts go, to that blissful week before news of Ozai’s defeat spread and the world came crowding in; Toph demanding a tour of the palace, Sokka making woeful faces at the spicy snacks he specifically requested from the kitchen, Aang and Katara under each of Zuko’s shoulders to support him as they wandered the halls. 

With how busy they’ve all been since then, it feels like he’s only met up with the gang to solve minor crises, and then they never have time to catch up. Everyone’s split up to all corners of the world, handling their own important responsibilities.

He flows through his stances until he’s ready to bend. Making sure no unfortunate sailor is within range, he channels powerful bursts of fire into a series of punches. Sweat beads at his temples.

Zuko’s doubts are relentless, even through the concentration he devotes to his firebending.

Here at the South Pole, he knows, Aang and Katara at least have each other, and Sokka too. He can’t picture those three ever growing apart. Even Suki isn’t far away, on Kyoshi Island. Toph is more isolated in the Earth Kingdom, but then, she doesn’t seem to need much more frequent company than a new Earth Rumble championship belt and someone to show it off to every few months.

Most of the time he has Mai with him at the palace, but that’s different. It doesn’t keep him from missing the others, or from wondering if too much has changed. What if he’s growing too far apart? What if someday he’ll be nothing more than a political ally to them?

His spinning kick slows into a crouching twist stance and then a sit, and Zuko presses his palms flat to the steel of the deck. The melting frost prickles against his skin. He returns to his breathing exercises, but he still feels tense and nervous down to his bones, a chill creeping in that has little to do with the weather.

He sits there with his face to the sun for a long while, aware of the ship’s increasing proximity to its destination, scrambling to figure out a plan. Maybe he can still salvage this visit, just as long as he doesn’t let Katara and Aang know anything’s wrong. He’s come bearing gifts for the birthdays he missed, more than half a year late, and if they don’t feel like seeing him anymore, he can always lend himself and his crew to help with any number of restoration projects around the Southern Water Tribe.

“Land ho, sir,” calls the first mate, disrupting his thoughts. “And uh, Avatar ho, as well!”

Zuko squints open one eye, confused, and then jumps to his feet. The weight of his worries starts to lift when he spots the orange ray high above, a warm flicker of flame against the pale blue sky. The colors separate more distinctly into the shapes of Aang and his glider as he tightens his spiral over the ship.

It reminds Zuko of the first time he crossed these waters and finally saw that beam of ethereal light—the hope that filled even his misguided heart. It’s strange, how that feeling never really left, just evolved into something he could put to a face instead of a myth.

That face beams at him now, gray eyes glittering in the light. Aang stays perched on the prow for just a second before he tackles Zuko in a flying hug, no crew member fast enough to intercept him. Zuko staggers a little but remains on his feet. He lifts one hand from where he reflexively caught Aang’s back and waves off his guards.

Left to their reunion, he tries not to balk at the length of the embrace until Aang decides they’re done. In the Fire Nation, this might be considered unusual between friends, but Aang explained once that it was different for his people. Accommodating his affections is the least Zuko can do. 

Aang’s hugs aren’t so bad, anyhow—he smells vaguely of sky bison, a scent surprisingly comforting to Zuko now, and the cloud vapor clinging to Aang’s clothes is dewy-sweet and refreshing against his face. Everything is nice until he notices how easily Aang’s chin nestles over his shoulder, without Zuko even slouching. He frowns.

“When did you  _ grow _ ?”

Aang grins up at him, and it’s only really  _ up _ because of how Aang’s leaned backwards. “I’m even taller than Katara now.” He stands up straighter and tucks his hands behind his back, full of false modesty.

Zuko doesn’t rightly know how to process this paradigm shift. He collects his cloak from a nearby crewmate and shrugs the shoulder pauldrons into place, as if that will give him back some of the height Aang’s stolen. “How is Katara?” he asks as he busies himself with the fastenings.

“Great! As excited to see you as I was, but she had to take care of some things in the village first,” Aang says, eyes twinkling. “Are you ready to go?”

“Well, seeing as we’re on a ship, we’re already going as fast as we can.”

“Maybe for a bunch of firebenders. Good thing you’re best friends with the Avatar.”

Zuko quirks an amused eyebrow. He expects Aang will harry the captain into letting him waterbend the ship the rest of the way, but instead Aang taps his staff against the deck. The glider’s sleek blue wings snap out neatly.

“Do you mind if I kidnap you?” he asks, as polite as can be except for the obvious plea in his voice.

Zuko nods, more in bewilderment than agreement. Especially given Aang’s recent growth spurt, he has his doubts about the glider’s ability to support both their weight. Before he can voice any of them, Aang scoops him up—on the wind, more than anything, but there’s a surprising amount of muscle in those wiry arms—and heaves him overboard.

An embarrassing shout escapes Zuko, left with barely enough time to brace himself for the frigid sea. The alarm goes up immediately, and his guards rush to the side of the ship with fireballs at the ready.

But the water never comes, only a marigold blur and a warm presence plummeting alongside him, then catching and steadying him on a slippery surface. Zuko dizzily makes out Aang’s profile, the sun gleaming over his tattooed head as he finishes preparing whatever wild scheme he’s come up with this time. 

Below their feet is a slab of ice, long and narrow in the shape of a leaf. Aang has his glider angled behind his back like a sail.

An arc of flame from above makes Aang lean away, dangerously rocking their makeshift vessel, and Zuko grabs him to try to keep them from both tipping over. 

Laughing, Aang uses the momentum to swivel the iceboard out of harm’s way. “This is just like old times! Being attacked by a Fire Nation ship, almost drowning you…”

Zuko has half a mind to drown Aang too, but he yells up at his crew instead, ordering them to cease fire and meet him at his destination. 

Several strands of hair have sprung free of his topknot, hanging gracelessly in his eyes, and he feels far too warm for his heavy winter clothes. He glares at Aang, but it’s hard to stay mad at him when Aang’s practically vibrating with excitement. His own body still thrums with the adrenaline of the fall, his earlier anxieties almost forgotten in the rush. Maybe this wasn’t such a crazy idea after all.

Zuko sighs. “Okay, Avatar, take me away. You’ve captured the Fire Lord.”

“You’re gonna have to hold onto me,” Aang says, grinning over his shoulder at Zuko, “but trust me, this’ll be fun.”

When cold floods up to Zuko’s ankles, he realizes Aang has frozen his feet in place, and when they take off and he nearly flies backwards into the ocean, he realizes why. All he can do is lock his arms around Aang, squinting against the salty spray and pellets of ice as they dodge through a broken up floe. 

Aang whoops joyfully, bending the elements to his whim like it’s child’s play, riding the waves or flying over them entirely when he wants to. Seeing him so carefree and self-assured is in equal parts refreshing and infectious. 

And it’s certainly a faster way to travel. By the next time Zuko looks up from Aang’s shoulder, the shoreline is much closer, but Aang shows no sign of slowing down. His tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth in concentration.

“Aang!” Zuko yells in warning, and then they’re airborne, sailing over the gleaming white expanse. 

After tricking gravity for far too long, Aang brings them down to crunch through the snowpack and skids to a stop before the nearest igloo. Zuko is just about to celebrate the miracle of surviving that ride, when the iceboard cracks in two beneath them and flips him face-first into the snow. His eyes already sting from the salt, and the sharp cold against his skin only makes his indignation burn hotter inside. He thinks steam might actually be coming out of his ears.

Aang laughs so hard he falls down next to Zuko, and Zuko takes the opportunity to smack a snowball on his forehead as payback. It deforms from the heat of his hand, ending up strangely soggy, and Aang laughs even more as the snow trickles down his face. “Look, Zuko, you’re a waterbender!”

Zuko starts heaping more onto Aang’s torso, which doesn’t subdue the giggle fit at all. He almost doesn’t notice Katara’s approach until her shadow falls over them and Aang’s last gust of laughter fades into a dreamy sort of sigh. Aang waves one hand in greeting, as much as he can with it pinned under the snow, anyways. Zuko looks up.

With the sun haloed radiantly behind Katara, he understands Aang’s quiet awe. She wears an expression of exasperated fondness, her hair loops swinging with the shake of her head and her eyes shining gladly. 

The ice around his feet is melted away before he can even blink. Zuko expects a light scolding for burying her boyfriend alive, but Katara just holds out a hand to each of them and pulls them upright.

“Aang,” she says sternly, “didn’t we say we would welcome Zuko  _ nicely _ , so maybe he’ll actually want to visit us again?” 

“Aw, but I really wanted to teach him how to windsurf.” Aside to Zuko, Aang adds, “I invented it myself!”

“ _ Teach _ ?” Zuko snorts. “You taught me how to get a few new bruises, maybe.”

Katara glances pointedly at the broken iceboard. “And you still haven’t mastered it, either.” The narrowing of her eyes is too playful to be actually reprimanding. “You’re turning into a bad influence on Zuko, aren’t you? And here I always thought I would be the other way around.”

Aang sneezes and shakes himself like a polar bear-dog, scattering snow far away on the breeze. “Yeah, a  _ fun _ influence, you mean,” he says when he floats back down to earth. “Anyways, I’m gonna go on ahead—is everything ready?”

Katara nods and shoos him onwards, though not without a quick exchange of cheek kisses. Seeing them next to each other, Zuko realizes Aang was exaggerating his new height, though only a little; the top of his head is roughly even with Katara’s, which is unsettling enough. She lets him go and turns her attention to Zuko, and he thinks she must have grown a bit taller too, to meet his gaze almost directly.

He feels suddenly conscious of his own dishevelment and attempts to straighten out his robes, untangling his cloak from where it’s caught around one leg. His ship is still out on the horizon, so at least he can be grateful that his crew wasn’t close enough to witness his wipeout. 

The amused tilt of Katara’s lips gives him the sense that she probably did, but she doesn’t comment. She looks at Zuko with a warmth that must be residual, from her hello-and-goodbye with Aang, but it lingers.

“Uh,” Zuko says, trying to figure out how to proceed. “What was Aang going ahead to?”

“It’s a surprise,” Katara says. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”

Zuko frowns. “You guys can’t give me anything before the ship gets here.”

“And why not?”

“Because—it’s a surprise.”

Katara regards him fondly for another moment before ducking in close to wrap her arms around him, the fur lining of her parka hood tickling his nose. The hug lasts just long enough for him to settle his awkward hands on her back and breathe in the scent of her hair, saltwater and sweet, fresh snowmelt. She gives him one hearty squeeze and steps back. 

“It’s really good to see you,” she says, resting her hands on his forearms instead. “Our surprise can’t exactly wait forever though, so come on.”

She leaves no more room for argument, pulling him by the hand to the village center, where a new hall has been built since the last time Zuko was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if Katara herself had a hand in its construction. Passing under an icy archway wrought with elaborate swirling patterns, they climb a short, wide set of stairs. The door opens to a room big enough to seat the village population of about 40 at several round, low tables.

Near the back, Aang sits with Hakoda, Kanna, and a few people Zuko doesn’t recognize immediately. When he spots Katara and Zuko, he hops up to wave them over.

Down the center of the room, a long, wide tray on the floor hosts a rich array of food, enough to feed the whole village—a variety of pungent fishes, cauldrons brimming with soup, slabs of seal meat, bowls heaped with steamed dumplings, and even a few dishes from beyond the Water Tribes. Zuko spots a plate of smoked sea slug, a Fire Nation delicacy, and near the end, a row of fruit tarts and custards, no doubt prepared by Aang.

With such a feast to be had, the absence of the family’s resident food critic is surprising. “Where’s Sokka?” he asks.

“He wanted to be here, but he promised Suki he’d visit this week,” Aang says. “He says hi, though! Maybe you’ll catch him next time, if you come see us again soon.”

“That’s okay, I can do a pretty good impression,” Katara offers, pulling a stray lock of hair over her upper lip in imitation of a mustache that Sokka definitely doesn’t have. “‘Ahh, meat! Thanks for being our guest of honor so that I can eat all this meat! Can’t talk, I’m on a strict schedule for today—eat meat, eat meat, and eat  _ more _ meat!’”

Aang cracks up, and Zuko can’t quite suppress his snicker. Katara looks pleased with herself, eyes crinkled at the corners as she tucks her hair back behind her ear. 

Even Hakoda chuckles, but he clarifies, “Actually, I think he went to install some weather measurement device he invented.”

“Well, as long as they’re compensating him with dinner,” Zuko says, and enjoys another round of laughter.

“Speaking of, I’m starving!” says Aang.

Hakoda nods and stands, and the chatter in the room gradually dies down as the last fishermen straggling in from the cold find their seats.

“Thank you all for joining us here. As you know, we have been at peace for more than a year. In that time, we have begun to flourish again, in no small part thanks to the support of Fire Lord Zuko.” Hakoda gestures for Zuko to rise, which Zuko does belatedly, after a helpful nudge from Aang. “My daughter, Master Katara, with the help of Avatar Aang, arranged this banquet in the name of your continued friendship.”

This receives a smattering of applause, though several of the tribe, particularly the elders, remain with crossed arms. Hakoda leans to Zuko and asks, “Would you like to say a few words?”

Zuko tries not to swallow too obviously. Of course not everyone here is going to be his biggest fan now, or ever—he’s a grim reminder, especially after the harm he did to them personally when he first arrived in search of Aang. 

“I… I know that I still have a long way to go to right the wrongs of my nation’s past,” he says. “My own past. I deeply appreciate your patience and your hospitality, and I renew my promise to do everything in my power to act in service to the Southern Water Tribe. I look forward to many more years of collaboration between our people. Thank you.”

The applause is even more subdued. Zuko hardly notices anything beyond the chills running down his legs as he resumes his seat. He’s given harder speeches before, but this feels painfully personal, with Aang and Katara’s eyes on him. 

How long until they realize the others are right, that he really doesn’t deserve the forgiveness they’ve shown him when so much of the world is still scarred by what he allowed to happen?

“Thank  _ you _ .” Hakoda looks at Zuko with a familiar, unnerving sincerity that his daughter must have inherited from him. To the hall, he says, “Now let’s eat!”

A thunderous cheer goes up this time, and Zuko is grateful for the attention to be directed away from him. 

The hunters and elders take their pick first. While he waits to follow Katara’s family, he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks over at Aang, who smiles in reassurance. From the other side, Katara takes Zuko’s hand between both of hers. She looks more troubled, but she doesn’t say anything. Still, their touch briefly soothes the anxious sparks in his chest.

The meal is a welcome and delicious distraction. Katara reintroduces Zuko to the family friends sitting with them whose names he’s forgotten since the last time, and Aang catches him up to speed on the happenings of the South Pole in greater detail than Hakoda’s intermittent formal reports provided for the past year.

They’ve been putting the Fire Nation’s resources to good use, as well as the Northern Water Tribe’s, in rebuilding and implementing old and new infrastructure. There are plans to build a larger port city in the coming months and gather people from all the smaller tribes together. Master Pakku, who sits beside Kanna, has been helping Katara train a couple of newly discovered waterbenders in the scattered villages.

Aang, for his part, organizes snowball fights and builds new ice obstacle courses for the local children every day—besides when Avatar duties come up. Hakoda adds that he’s protected the village from several nasty storms and saved stranded canoes on more than one occasion. It warms Zuko’s heart—with both relief and envy, if he’s being honest—to see how much Katara’s family has taken Aang in as their own.

Picking at the last of her seaweed noodles, Katara says, “Actually, since we’ve all been really focused at home the past year, Aang was thinking of spending some time to take care of the Air Temples soon.”

Zuko turns to Aang, who pauses mid-chew of his plum pie, having already inhaled his plate of vegetable dumplings. He finishes his bite hastily, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, but it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just—I’ll get around to it, you know? Anyways, when we’re done here, we’re gonna take another trip, so I’ll go get Appa ready!”

“Wait,” Zuko starts, but Aang is already bolting for the exit on an air scooter, weaving through the people going back to the buffet for seconds. He looks to Katara, brow furrowed, and she sighs.

“He only mentioned it to me once, and he’s been like this about it since then,” she says. “I was hoping maybe he’d talk to you, if not me. Are you finished eating?”

“Stuffed. Let’s go after him.”

Outside, Zuko discovers his ship has just docked at the far end of the village. Aang is there, perched on Appa and waving hello to the crew. The captain seems visibly relieved when Zuko appears, probably having wondered if he would be held responsible for accidentally losing the Fire Lord.

“Just a second, don’t let Aang go anywhere,” Zuko tells Katara, hurrying up the ship’s ramp.

All the cargo is still aboard, including construction supplies, harvest goods, and his gifts for his friends. Zuko picks up the long, wrapped bundle for Aang and then goes below deck, where Katara’s present hulks in the dark, open space left for it in the hull. Half his crew splits up to join him on the smaller craft and prepare it, while the others open the main compartment to let it out into the water.

Outside the village, Katara stands next to Appa with one hand shielding her eyes against the sun. Even from a distance, Zuko can see her mouth drop open as the cutter eases across the water in all its polished splendor. They pull up to the dock on the opposite side from his ship. Once he’s helped his crew ashore, he joins Katara to survey her new boat and gauge her reaction. Aang slides down from Appa’s head on her other side and whistles appreciatively.

Specially commissioned for Katara, the cutter is a small, light vessel built for speed, perfectly able to be crewed by a single waterbender. Its four white sails are accented with Water Tribe symbols in blue, from the main wavecrest to a bordering pattern of thick parallel lines, stick-shapes like inverted arrows within; its hull is white, too, painted with a red band that winds around both sides and ends in a symmetrical curl near the bow. In place of a figurehead at the prow is a golden crescent moon, turned up on its side.

“Zuko,” Katara breathes.

“We’ve been calling her the  _ Painted Lady _ ,” Zuko explains in a quick, nervous breath, “since Aang told me the story of you dressing up as the spirit, helping that village in the Fire Nation.”

“Zuko,  _ really _ ?”

He holds up his hands placatingly. “You can change the name! And we’ll repaint it, if you don’t like the—”

Then Katara’s arms are around him, squeezing hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Behind her, Aang gives him two thumbs up.

She’s grinning possibly the widest he’s ever seen her grin, looking eagerly between Zuko and the ship. “That can’t be right—that whole thing, for me?”

Zuko exhales, unable to hide his relief upon realizing she’s actually pleased. “I just thought, it would be good for you to have your own way to get around. Sokka suggested it, last time I ran into him in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Just as long as you don’t forget all about your buddy Appa!” Aang interjects. Appa rumbles agreement with a great shake of his wooly head, making them all laugh.

Katara goes to acquaint herself with the  _ Painted Lady _ , until Zuko darts past her, muttering apologies, to grab the item he left propped on one of the inner benches. She hardly seems to notice, swinging herself into the boat and walking around to touch every inch of it in awe.

It’s Aang’s turn to tilt his head quizzically at Zuko, who approaches with the long bundle laid across both hands. There’s really only one thing it can be, but Aang takes the time to unwrap it carefully anyways.

“Thanks, Zuko, but I’ve already got a…” He trails off when he sees the staff. “Glider. Is this…?”

Turning the whole thing reverently in his hands, Aang slips the fans out into position. They’re as vibrantly orange as his original glider; the staff has the same old boxy shape, too, but it’s taller, fit for an adult airbender 100 years gone. It actually looks a little too big for Aang. 

Wet droplets patter onto the waxy surface of the wings, and Zuko’s heart sinks when he realizes they’re tears falling from Aang’s face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—you don’t have to keep it, I understand if it’s too…” Zuko clenches his fists, frustrated with himself for being so insensitive. “No, I know I can’t understand what it’s like.”

Aang shakes his head vigorously and catches Zuko’s hand, holding tight to him. His eyes are gray as a stormcloud and just as full of rain. “Just, how did you—?”

“It was in the palace, in an old chamber. There were others, but this was the only one in good shape. I think… they meant to replicate it and use it for an air force, but they never could,” Zuko admits, and it feels like swallowing coals. 

Is it worse for Aang to know that the Fire Nation would add such insult to injury? Holding this staff, does he feel the hands that stole it, washed in his people’s blood?

But Aang’s smiling through his tears now, for some reason, and even more bafflingly, hugging Zuko as Katara did. She rejoins them at that moment, just in time to witness a mystified, blurry-eyed Zuko. Spotting the glider, her eyes widen in recognition.

“Thank you,” Aang whispers. “Thank you, Zuko. I can’t, I don’t know how to tell you how much this means to me. It’s like he’s  _ here _ with me, someone I never knew. Like I’m not so alone.”

Katara lays her hand on Aang’s back, and he gives her a watery smile. The look she passes on to Zuko is full of heartbreaking gratitude.

“Good, that’s—I’m glad. I’m so glad,” he says sincerely. “I can’t claim all the credit, though, the mechanist helped restore it.”

Aang examines the top quarter of the staff more closely. “No snack compartment, though,” he says. “I was starting to get used to that with my other one.”

“We can always have it modified,” Katara points out.

With a hoarse laugh, Aang scrubs his sleeve across his eyes. “I’m just kidding. It’s perfect as it is. And who knows, if this one was still out there, maybe we’ll find more. I bet I can even figure out how to make another one myself now, with a little help.”

“Anything I can do, I will,” Zuko promises. “And the same goes for rebuilding the Air Temples.”

Aang nods and smiles tightly. “Okay. Thanks again, Zuko. Can we talk about it later?”

“For now, how would your friend feel about a test flight?” Katara asks with a knowing smile. “Because I’m dying to show the new  _ Painted Lady _ around.”

Aang brightens. “I think they’d both like that. Appa, you come too!”

“And I’ll need my first passenger, of course,” Katara adds, gesturing for Zuko to hop in.

Leaving his crew with orders only to rest and comply with any of Chief Hakoda’s requests, Zuko sets out to sea with his friends. Behind them, several women of the tribe are bringing out the leftover food for the fire nationals to take and dine aboard the ship. Zuko smiles, watching the scene from Katara’s boat. It’s a start.

Like its namesake, the  _ Painted Lady _ seems to glide across the water, smoothly clearing the little bay of Katara's village. Beyond it, the waves are rougher on a craft of this size. Katara handles them with ease, drawing the water around the cutter's path and propelling it from the stern. Aang offers his help, but she hardly seems to need it.

“Go on, fly!” Katara shouts over the rush of the wind.

With a last grin at her and Zuko, Aang edges out onto the slick bowsprit, keeping the billowing headsail at his back. He hefts the glider into the air and lets the breeze spread its fans before leaping up on a draft of his own to catch it. “Come on, buddy!” he calls to Appa, and with a great sweep of his tail the sky bison thunders upwards alongside Aang.

Zuko tilts his head back to watch them ascend into the mountainous clouds for as long as he can.

A jolt of the boat shakes him from his trance. He leans over the side to see a mid-sized piece of ice spin in their wake. It’s the first stray from a sprawling floe they’re coming up on, fast. Zuko looks back at Katara, at the far end of the boat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to navigate?” he yells.

“What are you so nervous for?” she calls back, her voice light and carefree with laughter.

Zuko opens his mouth to retort, but Katara stamps her foot on the deck, focusing straight ahead for a moment. He turns to see the whole floe scatter away from their path, parting down the middle. With a flourish of her arms, Katara adds the finishing touch, clumping and stacking all the ice together on either side in a half-open tunnel. Zuko’s face is reflected back at him in the walls’ crystal-blue sheen as the  _ Painted Lady _ skates through the rift.

Once they’re through, she lets the ice fall harmlessly back into place, reconstructing the floe the same as if nature had done it.

Not for the first time, Zuko wonders at Katara’s total mastery over her element, the way she puts it to such beautiful and benign use. Azula springs to his mind, unbidden, and it’s strange to think of how like and unlike Katara she is. Maybe someday she’ll learn to use her fire this way—maybe Katara might be able to help her more than he has. He can only hope.

That’s a proposal for another day, though, and he realizes it’s presumptuous of him to think that Katara would even be willing. In ten years, she might want nothing to do with him, she or Aang.

Zuko’s palms prickle, far too warm, and he folds them in the sleeves of his coat as Katara makes her way across to him. She’s still absentmindedly drawing the water to her will, but they’ve picked up enough speed and wind to coast along for a while. The ocean is clear, though a darker tint than it was this morning, with the sun cloaked in the clouds.

“This is nice,” Katara says, giving Zuko’s shoulder a friendly nudge with her own.

“The boat, or the company?”

“The boat, obviously,” Katara says with a roll of her eyes. “No, I mean, it’s wonderful and thank you again, but you didn’t have to get me anything at all. It’s just great to spend time with you. I know Aang’s glad you came, too.”

“Me too.” Zuko glances down at the water, his smile fading. “I don’t think most of the village felt that way, though.”

She sighs, crossing her arms over the railing next to him. “I knew something was bothering you. Really, Zuko, it’s not your fault.”

“It  _ is _ my fault,” he snaps, and she flinches. With a slow exhale, he wraps his own hands over the railing and tries to calm himself. “Sorry. I just… You shouldn’t have to make excuses for me, you shouldn’t have to do more than you already have.”

Holding on isn’t working, so he turns away to pace, horribly conscious of Katara’s worried eyes on him. “The first time I was here, I completely wrecked your village. I hurt everyone, I was everything wrong with the Fire Nation—no wonder they resent me, they have every right! A year ago, you would have, too. You forgave me, and I didn’t even deserve it. I still don’t.”

The silence hangs, broken only by the lapping waves. Katara takes a deep breath.

“Look, I know you feel bad about the past, and I’m glad you know where you went wrong,” she says. “But nothing would make you any more or less deserving of forgiveness, Zuko—it’s a choice that other people make, that you have no control over. And I know you don’t expect it, but you also need to stop… _ not _ expecting it.” 

Zuko looks at her, confused but intent. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t have to assume the worst of everyone’s feelings all the time,” Katara says slowly. “It’s enough to just accept what you’re given and stop worrying so much about it. We’re all healing in our own time, and someday, people will remember you for better things.” She smiles faintly, looking up to the sky. “And, you know, some of us already do.”

She’s all conviction and shining eyes in just the right ray of sunlight, and for a moment, Zuko comes close to believing in himself as easily as she does.

Then he looks up, too, just in time to make way. Aang’s feet hit the deck with a harder thump than usual. He looks visibly tired, wind-stung tear tracks streaked by his eyes. Katara is with him in an instant, gentle hands cupping his face. From where he floats alongside the ship, Appa moos.

“I’m okay,” Aang assures her.

Sympathy washes out the rest of Zuko’s self-pity, and he nods to the glider still carried across Aang’s shoulder. “How did it feel?”

“Heavy,” Aang says, standing up a little taller, “but good.”

He closes the glider’s fans and, endearingly, gives the staff a pat. While he goes to find its cloth wrapping and stow it safely in the ship’s shallow hold, he calls to them, “So what have you two been up to?”

Katara gives Zuko a look that makes him feel small, both chastised and let off. “Zuko needed a little pep talk,” she says.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” Aang asks, hopping up to perch on the railing between them.

Zuko shakes his head. “I think I’ve just been doubting too much, since lunch and… well, always.”

Aang gives him an understanding smile. “It’s okay. Not everyone can go on a life-changing field trip with you, remember?”

For having missed most of the conversation, he’s right on track. Maybe he just knows Zuko, the way Katara does.

“Besides,” Aang says, “I’m sure Katara already said it, but we’re always here for you. I know you’ve got a lot of pressure on you. But for today, you don’t have to worry about that! What matters is we’re all together right now, so we might as well have fun.”

Katara’s fond, expectant gaze shifts from him to Zuko; Aang’s is so full of hope it’s impossible to even think of letting him down. 

Zuko starts to nod, but the  _ Painted Lady  _ pitches abruptly, sending Aang sliding down the rail. He tumbles into Zuko, who catches him reflexively. Katara skids backwards, her arms poised as she drags the boat to a halt with her bending. After a long, topsy-turvy moment, everything falls steady again.

“Sorry,” she pants, “I should’ve been watching where we were going.”

“Should I have had a spare made for you as well?” Zuko asks with a raised eyebrow. “You seem pretty eager to wreck this one.”

Katara throws him a halfhearted glare, but a smile sneaks through when her eyes land on Aang, who’s clinging to Zuko in a manner not unlike a startled Momo. Zuko coughs to give him a hint it’s time to let go. Aang only shuffles to secure his arm better over Zuko’s back and legs over Zuko’s arm. 

“I thought you were too big for this now,” Zuko says pointedly. “Why don’t you carry me?”

Aang puts on his best creaky, worn rasp. “Nonsense, I’m a 114-year-old man! I’m teaching you some respect for your elders, young whippersnapper.”

Katara dissolves into laughter, which Zuko tries not to dignify with too much of a smile. Aang occupies himself with curling ticklish breezes into Zuko’s face, stirring his hair all out of place, while Katara fashions an icy anchor and a bridge over to solid ground. Zuko makes his way forward, bearing his all-powerful cargo with a long-suffering sigh.

Aang turns his head sharply, then. There looks to be nothing but snow and ice and sea, but something’s caught his attention.

“Hang on,” Aang says.

He shoots out of Zuko’s arms in a great gust of airbending and jumps to a stony outcropping, kicking up a snowy cloud in his wake.

“Aang, what is it?” Katara calls. He doesn’t answer. It’s unusually quiet, no natural wind carving across the terrain.

As they make their way through the flurry and pass around the outcropping, Zuko realizes what it was obstructing: a huge, bowl-shaped iceberg, its sides strangely rounded and top edges like smoothed mountain peaks.

Aang slides down and heads straight for the water, drawing chunks of ice into a line of stepping stones beneath him. Katara hurries after, leaving Zuko no choice but to follow. He wobbles on the last bobbing step, until Katara catches him by the forearm and pulls him safely onto the thicker shelf. 

Up close, the iceberg beneath his feet is a sheer, sky blue unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It almost seems to be filled with light from the inside. When he blinks, a residual glow haunts the backs of his eyelids, like every time he’s witnessed Aang in the Avatar state before.

Zuko guesses where they are in the same moment that Aang murmurs, “It’s still here. I knew I sensed something.”

“You  _ sensed _ it?” Katara asks, eyebrows arching with her question.

An enormous shadow passes overhead, blotting out the afternoon sun. It’s only Appa, circling above before settling with a splash in the water alongside the iceberg, barely even rocking its bulk. He tosses his furry head with a nervous grunt.

“I know, buddy,” Aang says to him. He runs his hand gingerly along one of the icy walls. “There are still traces of energy. Mine, I guess. It’s like – remember when we visited the Swamp? I just felt pulled to it, suddenly.”

Katara frowns. “That makes sense. I just don’t understand why you haven’t sensed it before.”

“Maybe I wasn’t close enough. Or maybe I was just meant to come here today.” Aang glances back at Katara and Zuko. “Full circle, or something like that.”

Zuko studies Aang’s profile carefully when he’s turned away. “It’s not… painful, being here again?”

Aang takes in a deep breath, lets it out. “It’s a reminder,” he says. “Sometimes the worst things in our past can help guide us on the best path in our present, or our future.”

A warm itch unfurls beneath Zuko’s left eye in a way it hasn’t in a long time. He notices Katara touch her fingertips to her necklace, a familiar gesture.

The serious wisdom in Aang’s face lifts when he adds, “I mean, I hope I can avoid getting stuck in any more icebergs. But it wasn’t all bad.” His gaze lands on Katara for a longer moment. “A very pretty girl saved me, after all.”

Katara’s cheeks take on a darker tint, and she fiddles with the fur of her hood. After they’re done exchanging moony eyes, her expression grows more thoughtful. “I guess you wouldn’t have met either of us if you’d never been frozen,” she says.

Zuko tries to imagine what it must have been like to be Katara and free a lost boy from an ethereal, shining ball of ice, or to be Aang and wake up 100 years out of time without knowing it. He doesn’t think he would have had the strength to do what either of them did. He doesn’t like to think of what  _ he _ would have done, if he’d been the one to discover the Avatar in such a vulnerable state.

“I’m glad you found him first,” says Zuko, trying to clamp down on the hot wash of remorse for a crime he never quite committed. He clears his throat. “Sokka was with you though, wasn’t he? If Aang was supposed to come here again, I don’t understand why it wouldn’t have been with you two, instead of me.”

“Well, why not you?” Katara asks, a little more forcefully than he expects. She looks like she can see right through him. “You found him then, too, in a way. The Avatar gave you hope, the same as me, even before either of us knew him.” 

“All I gave Sokka was a headache,” Aang snickers. “He didn’t even believe I was an airbender at first, or Appa either!”

“If he were here, he’d just want to pick apart this iceberg with his  _ science _ to explain how Aang survived in there,” Katara says with fond exasperation.

Zuko still can’t wrap his head around what they mean. “Okay, what about… Toph?”

Aang hums. “I did see a vision of her that time in the Swamp. She’s never really been interested in sharing spiritual stuff with me, though. I think it’s something more private for her.”

“And she definitely wasn’t invested in Aang’s future before we met her,” says Katara. “It took her a while to get on board after that, too.”

“I wouldn’t be where I am now without her, or Sokka,” Aang amends carefully. “But I think I owe a lot to both of you especially. And I don’t believe my being here with you is a coincidence.”

He looks directly at Zuko, gray eyes like softened metal. 

Zuko considers it, that even after all he’s done, fate has seen fit to place him at the Avatar’s side. He has no way of knowing for how long, but then, Aang told him not to worry, so for now, he doesn’t. He lets himself bask in the quiet epiphany of the threads tying their lives together since long before he knew it. 

If he remains even half as important to Aang or Katara as they are to him for the rest of his lifetime, he’ll be happy.

Belatedly, Zuko registers one of Katara’s arms around his shoulder, the other around Aang’s. She smushes them into a group hug with her, embracing them with enough force to lift Zuko to his tiptoes.

“Come on,” she says. “We’ve got one more post-iceberg tradition to share with you.”

The journey back is smooth and uneventful, apart from the excitement of spotting a pod of dolphin piranhas, and Appa launching himself from swimming to flight, showering everyone onboard the  _ Painted Lady _ in a cold rain when he shakes himself dry.

Back at the village, they leave the cutter and pile into Appa’s saddle to go the rest of the way. They huddle shoulder-to-shoulder for warmth in the chill of the clouds. Katara insists on keeping Zuko in the middle so he can’t turn around and see where they’re going. Curiosity eats at him, but he finds he doesn’t mind very much, with Aang talking animatedly about Appa’s favorite places around the South Pole.

The spot where they land doesn’t look all that different to him by way of scenery, but the icy expanse takes on a different tone, the glaciers stained pink and orange and lilac in the light of the barely-setting sun.

Katara slides off of Appa first, detaching one of his saddlebags to take with her. Aang motions for Zuko to join him at the edge of the saddle and watch. Below the ridge where Appa landed, closer to the water, is a colony of otter-penguins. They follow Katara’s tossed trail of fish up the slope, more and more of them squawking and crowding in as she goes. 

Aang’s grin is as broad as the open sky. He grabs Zuko by the hand and jumps with him in tow, floating them down to land near Katara. Before long, they’re surrounded.

“Remember how you promised you’d come penguin sledding with us?” Katara asks, dropping a small fish into Zuko’s hand.

An otter-penguin immediately snaps up the morsel and nuzzles into his palm, snuffling for more. It tickles terribly. Zuko doesn’t realize he’s giggling until he notices Aang and Katara staring at him with mouths agape. His face heats up immediately. For a minute there, he sounded like a kid again.

“What? It’s cute,” he says defensively. “I, uh, don’t know how I feel about riding one, though.”

“They love sledding!” Aang reassures him. “All you’ve gotta do is ask nicely, and give them plenty of treats. Come on!”

Katara tips most of the fish onto the ice, and the otter-penguins pile up to snatch their share. She keeps a handful and backs away, holding them out. The otter-penguin that took a liking to Zuko follows alongside him, and a few others wander away from the group, too. Aang gets them used to his touch by stroking the sleek fur down their backs, coaxing them to flop onto their bellies.

They reach the top of the nearest hill with a trio of otter-penguins, who seem perfectly comfortable playing all around them, even though they’ve run out of food.

Aang crouches over one, indicating the proper form as he settles gently onto its back. Despite his new gangly proportions, he still seems to fit perfectly. 

Zuko isn’t so sure about himself. He manages to catch the slippery otter-penguin as it frolics between his feet, and it doesn’t seem to mind his weight as he lowers himself carefully onto its back. Following Aang’s example, he presses his hands lightly on its upper shoulders, positions his knees between its two sets of flippers, and tucks his feet up over the base of its tail.

He feels ridiculous. Katara snorting laughter into her mittens doesn’t help matters.

Once she’s wrangled her own otter-penguin, Aang shimmies flatter on the back of his and sets his sights on the slope. “Okay,” he says, “on your marks, get set, go!”

Zuko just barely tracks the gesture they use, tapping their knees lightly on their otter-penguins’ sides to send them racing off down the hill. Before he can try it, his ride takes off with a mind of its own, chasing after the others. A startled yell tumbles out of his mouth, unbidden, and gets lost behind him. Like when Aang took him windsurfing earlier, he has to squint his eyes against the stinging cold and stray bits of ice. His heart rushes in his chest as they pick up speed and he realizes he has no idea how to stop, or do anything for that matter.

His otter-penguin has nearly caught up to Aang and Katara, both of them whooping all the way. A bit desperately, Zuko shouts, “How am I supposed to steer this thing?”

“You’re not!” Katara yells back. “Don’t worry, just let go!”

He’s about to retort that that’s easier said than done, but a clod of snow flies into his mouth. They’ve hit a powdery stretch—a short one, he realizes as Katara and Aang fly out of sight, giving him only a few seconds’ warning that this is a  _ cliff _ . 

There’s no avoiding it. His otter-penguin shoots over the edge and soars like it was fired from a cannon. Zuko’s cry stretches out and out until the only thing left in his throat is panicked laughter, and his nerves finally dissipate when they thump back onto solid ice and keep speeding onward with the momentum. It really wasn’t so bad—actually, it felt kind of amazing.

Aang twists to look back over his shoulder and call, “You’re doing great!”

They take slope after icy slope, the otter-penguins navigating deftly around crevasses and hidden boulders. At one point, Zuko’s finally gets an edge on the other two and takes the lead. His cheeks ache from so much smiling. Katara shouts an indignant remark and tries to pass by cutting in close to him. He leans the other way, and his otter-penguin glides smoothly out of her path.

There’s one last ramp of ice to jump, but butting too closely with Katara to stay ahead means both of them have to dodge around it. Zuko doesn’t see the sleek shadow pass overhead until too late, when Aang’s otter-penguin touches down far ahead of him and Katara. 

Their sledding is finally interrupted by their natural finish line: the sea. The otter-penguins angle themselves sideways and scrape to a neat halt. Aang’s closest to the edge of the ice, the winner by far.

Zuko realizes abruptly he won’t be able to stand yet, left boneless as the excitement that animated him through the race finally seeps away. He tips over gracelessly to the side, and Aang and Katara fall into another fit of laughter. 

He’s able to catch himself enough to avoid pinning his otter-penguin, who sniffs all over Zuko’s neck and face with apparent concern. He pats the creature’s head and thanks it for its help. Satisfied, it waddles off with its kin and dives into the water.

Zuko is content to lay there for a moment, the cold refreshing against his face after the surprising adrenaline of penguin-sledding.

“So, did you have fun?” Aang asks once he’s waved their furry friends goodbye.

Katara helps Zuko to his feet, her eyes still alight with amusement. Zuko’s chuckle is nearly hoarse. “Yeah,” he says. “I beat Katara, at least.”

“No you didn’t!” Katara exclaims. “Aang, tell him—”

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Aang says in his best peacemaking voice. “It wasn’t even supposed to be a race.”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say, you won.”

Aang pretends not to puff out his chest too much. “’Course I did, I’m always winning when I’m having a good time with my friends! And because I’m a  _ master _ penguin-sledder.”

Katara pouts a little, but seems to forget her grievances when Aang sweeps her off her feet in a hug. “Did  _ you _ have fun?” he asks her, and she nods, her eyes reflecting his shameless, adoring happiness. Zuko watches them, foreheads pressed together and matching grins lighting up their whole faces, until he feels like he shouldn’t.

Still, they’re imprinted in his memory, in this moment with the last undying sunlight tracing their cheeks in low-burning silhouette. He turns his gaze to the horizon instead, the deepening reds beneath the sun and the vibrant oranges above reaching into the washed blues of half-night. Something like peace sits weightlessly in his chest.

Just when Zuko is about to ask how they’re going to get back to Appa, the sky bison finds them. His landing pushes a disgruntled huff out of him, and Aang goes to tend to him, petting his face and promising him a fruit dessert when they return to the village. Katara takes Zuko’s hand, and he tries not to show his surprise when he looks at her. He’s still not used to being shown her friendly affection, but it’s… nice.

“Thanks for letting us drag you around all day,” she says. “I know you’ve got responsibilities and all, but you’re always welcome in our little corner of the world.”

“Right. And, the same goes for you two, of course, but I understand if you can’t. You’re the only people I know who are busier than me.”

Katara laughs lightly, moving her hand up to clasp Zuko’s offered elbow as they walk to Appa. “It’s been a nice change of pace, to mainly focus on things here at home, but I know Aang wants to travel again. I’d like to, too. And you can come with us, you know! Have Iroh fill in as Fire Lord while you take a few more life-changing field trips.”

Zuko’s smile twists with regret. “I think my reign is still a bit too… fragile, for that, but it would be nice to get everyone together again.”

“You could bring Mai, and I’m sure Ty Lee would come with Suki too!” Aang suggests, helping them both up into the saddle with a swirl of airbending. “The more the merrier.”

“I’ll try,” Zuko says. He wonders what Mai will think about it, if the idea might alleviate some of her boredom at the palace.

By the time they return to the village, it’s time for dinner, gathered around the hearth with Katara’s family. It’s far less nerve-wracking than the earlier lunch was; Kanna kindly insists on serving Zuko seconds, and Hakoda only brings up a few easily resolved business matters. Katara and Aang are mostly quiet, after sharing all about their adventure with Zuko. Neither of them mentions the iceberg, though they do exchange a conspiratorial look with Zuko when they get to the place in the story where it would be.

Afterwards, Zuko has a word with his captain outside and makes sure the crew is accommodated for the night. For himself, there is a guest igloo that will be melted down tomorrow, furnished for now with a firepit, a thick pallet of bedding, and even a small writing table.

He takes care of a few documents he brought with him first, though his eyes almost blur with tiredness. Zuko’s loath to go to bed so early—or maybe it isn’t early, he isn’t sure he’ll ever know with the sun fixed as it is—and have to leave so soon.

Just as he’s stepping out to go bid them good-not-night, he bumps into them in his own doorway. They each carry a bedroll under one arm, and Katara has a teapot hanging over her other wrist.

“Sleepover!” she announces.

“If you don’t mind, that is,” Aang adds.

Zuko is a little too bewildered for words, so he just invites them inside. They lay their bedding out across the firepit from his.

“You’re heading out at noon tomorrow, right?” Aang arranges himself sitting halfway under the covers, with Momo curled up on his head. “We didn’t want to miss out on any time with you!”

It’s strange, the way their thoughts seem to mirror each other so often. Zuko won’t complain, though. He’s happy to have their warmth fill his temporary home for as long as they’ll stay.

“I don’t really… I don’t think I’ve ever had a sleepover that wasn’t—well, camping as a fugitive from my own nation with you guys, or being tormented by my sister when we were little,” he explains after a moment.

Putting on the tea with a light of mischief in her eyes, Katara says, “Well, we’ll just have to show you how it’s done, then. First, you have to tell us all about your love life—past and present!”

“I don’t think that’s a real rule,” Aang interjects on Zuko’s behalf, but he looks equally curious.

Zuko snorts. “Okay, I have a better idea. I still don’t know all about what you and the others got up to before I joined you. We can swap stories, and  _ maybe _ we’ll touch on the hot gossip along the way.”

So they pass the night, sipping their tea and filling in the gaps between their shared histories. Katara is already snoring by the time Aang gets to the tale of the fortuneteller’s village, and Zuko drifts off somewhere after talking about his awkward date with Jin. Just this once, the past lets him sleep easily, secure in the knowledge that he’s ended up where he’s meant to be.


End file.
